Starless Night
by Wings-of-Twilight
Summary: What would you do if your world disappeared? If it hung shining like a drop of water from a leaf, and then the wind blew and shattered it on the ground?...
1. Prologue

Author's Notes: No, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, or any of the characters mentioned in this fanfiction other than Le'lorinel. Although I'd saw off my own right arm and feed it to catfish if it meant the REAL owners of Yu-Gi-Oh let me have Pegasus. Never mind that I'm not left-handed.

Oh, yes, and I'm aware of two things: One, a lot of you will probably complain that there are no elves in Yu-Gi-Oh! My reply to that is: What, you have ancient spirits, the Shadow Realm, and Millennium Items and you won't let me have just one ELF? *wink* The second is, I have absolutely no clue as to what timeline I should shoot for, since I only have access to the (crappy) dubbed version and 'when the pyramids were young' doesn't tell me a heck of a lot. Work with me, people.

-The Dark Elf

Darkness. There was always darkness in this eerie, directionless place. One was neither up nor down, left or right. Time, also, did not exist in the Shadow Realm, for here the laws of physics shattered into a thousand pieces. 

For as long as she could remember, Le'lorinel had dwelt here in this cold place made from the nothingness between the stars. For nearly that long, she'd had theories as to what, exactly, this strange dimension was. All of them made about as much sense as a white rabbit carrying a pocket watch with it. She'd more or less given up trying.

She wasn't originally from the Shadow Realm, of course. None of its denizens were. She wasn't certain what had happened to bring them together like this, but something -something- had done so. The very fabric of space itself had torn open in a thousand different worlds, hurling those unlucky enough to be caught too close to the gateways into the Abyss. 

Most of them died during the journey, or soon after, their moans of pain and despair echoing in the vast dark. She held their hands as they passed forever out of the realm of the living, tried to ease their terror. Others were unlucky enough to survive, only to become wandering spirits, lost and afraid, silently screaming their agony and their rage at the twisted gods that had subjected them to such torment.

But there were some that were like Le'lorinel. Some that did not die. Some that refused to become victims of circumstance. Now, instead of being the prey of the shadows, they were the shadows' creatures.

Smiling, the drow looked up- or down, as she wasn't exactly sure which direction was witch. As per usual, her eyes cut through the gloom of the shadows like a hot knife through butter... eyes perfectly suited for such a dark environment. The faint path she was traveling currently wound erratically through the area, barely a foot across. One wrong step, and she would plummet into free-fall, plunging down through the never. A tightrope, that was all this path was. The acrobat must be very careful, lest she forget her careful training and slip. 

Though sound didn't carry very well in the thick, soupy atmosphere, she found herself humming a wordless tune under her breath. It was one of the few songs of her people the dark elf remembered, a hymn to some forgotten god. Her lips formed the words, feet unconsciously matching her steps to the rhythm.

"Moonlight gently cascading down,

Leaves glowing under its touch,

Softly swaying in the night.

Trees stand as silent guardians

Watching over sleeping animals.

Moths flutter about in search of radiance

As fireflies perform an illuminating dance.

Grass quietly rustles as

The warm breeze caresses it.

The earth sleeps under a blanket of darkness."

Her ebony-skinned fingers absently curled around the amulet hung about her throat, seeking the comfort its familiar curves brought her. A stylized key, worked with the detail brought from years of experience, was all the pendant was. Interesting, though, how such an insignificant device could bring her peace.

That was because, of course, the key was not an ordinary piece of artwork. It had been crafted for her by the only friend she had in this cold, lonely realm, bespelled to stave off despair and the creeping, insolent chill brought on by the shadows. She wondered, absently, what had become of him, and whether he still lived.

*Tug.*

Le'lorinel stopped. For just a moment, she had thought that something pulled at her, like a fish is drawn from the ocean by an angler's hook.

****

*Tug.*

There it was again. This time, it was a definate pull, harder each time it jerked. The drow stumbled, gasping in shock as she blindly threw out her hands, trying to ward off... what?

She didn't know. Each time the calling pulled at her, there came with it a sickeningly powerful compulsion to follow. She turned around-

-and saw It.

It was a line of light, leading from her own heart off into the distance. That was unsettling to say the least. The Shadow Realm was many things, but it was NOT comprised of light.

Curious, the dark elf took one step towards the thin streamer of glowing energy... and was torn from her path as if snatched up by a colossal hand.

There were no references for what came next--no words, barely any thought. Only Being. She had no body, yet she found herself moving through the heavens, somehow, toward that beacon of raw power that tugged at her. Beckoned... 

...And there it was... 

Ahhh... How could such order, such ***beauty***, rise from chaos, and yet still *be* chaos? It seemed to stretch forever, its vast nimbus interlaced with a random, yet not-random scribble of lines as bright as the sun, woven by the power of rain and wind and sun and wave, and whirling about a central funnel core so thick with Power she could barely look upon it. It was magnificent. It was terrifying. And It Knew her. It had no awareness, and yet It Knew her. Called to her. Pulled. . . . 

Le'lorinel moved toward It. . . . 

Touched It... 

...And It was herself. 

Author's End Notes: So, there's my prologue. A tad short, but I assure you the next segment shall be much longer. And interesting. And containing the great, mysterious force known as Plot. Yaharr!


	2. Arrival

****

Author's Notes: Well, here we are. The next bit, as promised. Beware the PLOT! *cue spooky music* Thank you for reviewing! It always makes an author happy when people say they like her work. 

Oh, yes: once again, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! or anything else even remotely interesting besides my lurvely katana. *Cries* I wanna own Pegasus! The only characters that are mine (to date) are Le'lorinel and Niata.

Onward, mein piggies!

-D.E.

What would you do if your world disappeared? If it hung shining like a droplet of water and then the wind blew and shattered it on the ground? If the darkened walls of your world melted away and you found yourself in a strange place, dry and tough and dun-colored? What would you do then?

The wind was mostly what wakened Le'lorinel. She could not recall clearly what had happened after she left the path in the Shadow Realm- there had been singing, and light, light so brilliant it threatened to burn her eyes to nothingness.

Her fingers twitched. The ground was hot and gritty against her face and her right arm, which was flung out before her. The other was bent at an uncomfortable angle. She must have been lying on her chest. But she couldn't remember falling asleep, and the Shadow Realm certainly didn't feel like this.

Her fingers twitched again, curled into a fist around grains of desert sand, soft and golden in her palm. Her eyes opened a crack, and she instinctively pulled her legs up to her waist, curling into a ball as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Blinking, she opened her eyes all the way.

She shut them hastily with a groan of surprised pain, and clapped her hands over the lids. At that moment, four burning questions flashed through her mind, befuddled with exhaustion and light. Where was she? How did she get here? Who (or what) brought her here? And how in blazes was she going to get _out_ of here?

Crouching there, she gradually allowed her eyes to slide open a crack behind her black-skinned hands. It was only at that moment that she slowly began to realize that she was hearing voices. Voices of men and women, ranged all around her. The language was strange, like none she'd ever heard before. 

It took a while for her eyes -eyes made for the darkness of underground caverns and starless nights- to adjust to the light that, while dim, still stung her vision. She was in a wide, oval chamber, the floor hewn from what appeared to be sandstone. That would explain the grittiness she'd felt upon her cheek and hand. Hot bars of sunlight shone in from slats in the walls, pooling in certain places all about the area. 

"Vel'bol zhah aluin phalor? Vel'klal uil usstan?" Le'lorinel wondered aloud in her native tongue, rubbing her head. The smooth cascade of silvery-white strands hid her face from view, concealing her fiery, scarlet eyes behind a curtain as pale as moonlight. 

A dark shape to her right turned, looking at its companion. It pointed at Le'lorinel, speaking again in that strange language with a woman's voice. Then, slowly, it advanced.

The speaker was indeed a woman, robed in loose white linen. Her black hair was cut short, scented with some exotic, floral perfume. Her skin was the color of antique gold, and almond-shaped eyes ringed in black kohl silently appraised the ebon-skinned elf, at the moment sitting confusedly within the center of a tentagrammon, which had been drawn upon the floor. Around the woman's neck hung a slender silver amulet, disturbingly similar to Le'lorinel's own- a thin T with a slender band forming a loop at the top of the crossbar. She squatted down at the edge of the pentagram, peering at her strange visitor with a gaze that could have cut through steel. Pointing to Le'lorinel, she rattled off a stream of gibberish, pausing expectantly at the end. Le'lorinel shook her head to indicate she didn't understand. The woman furrowed her brow disapprovingly, and said the same line again, slowly- as if speaking at a less intense rate would make the nonsense more comprehensible. Once more, she received a vehement shake of the head in way of reply.

Sighing, the stranger turned to a man standing to her left, dressed in robes similar to her own, and asked a question. He nodded, flicking a strange gesture towards the drow with his wrist.

Searing pain ripped through Le'lorinel's throat. She tried to scream, but was only able to force out a thin, choking cry. The pain spread like wildfire, lancing into her brain where it exploded, sending sparklers of colored light across her field of vision. Then, as swiftly as it had begun, the pain had stopped, leaving only its memory behind.

The white-robed woman turned her attention back to her supernatural visitor. Slowly, deliberately, she spoke. "Do you understand me?"

"I do _now_," Le'lorinel replied as she shook her ice-pale hair out of her eyes, her tone at its driest. "What in the name of the gods did you just do, human?"

"A simple spell," the lady remarked mildly. "It enables you to speak our language. It should have been easy and it most certainly should not have hurt you."

Le'lorinel decided not to comment on her opinion of the woman's skills. "Who are you?"

"I am called Niata. High Priestess of the temple of Isis." The woman calmly folded her arms, gripping each near the shoulder with the opposite hand. "And now it is time for _my_ question. You will tell me your Name."

"What?!"

"Your _Name_, demon, I asked for your _Name_."

The request was not the innocent one it may have seemed to an unenlightened observer. Names held power, and the one this priestess asked for was not Le'lorinel's usename, which had no strength, but her _true_ one, which could be used to bind her utterly to Niata's will.

"I cannot give you what you ask. If you are done speaking to me, I shall go."

The priestess gave her an odd smile. "You are welcome to try."

Ignoring her, the dark elf rose on unsteady legs and tottered towards the northern point of the tentagrammon. She stretched out a hand as she prepared to step out

And a complicated pattern of thin, actinic lines of light suddenly decorated the dusty ground about her, following the lines of the pentagram. She smashed against something hard. 

Le'lorinel fell back with a grunt of astonishment. _What the HELL?_

She lunged forward, slamming against an unseen barrier yet again. For several wild moments panic threatened to overwhelm her as she clawed ineffectually at..._ whatever_ it was, but slowly, doggedly, reason fought its way to the fore.

A long moment to catch her breath and get her bearings, then the elf was probing frantically at whatever enclosed her. Something was there, yet not--curving up over her head to enclose her in a dome-like structure, anchoring at each of the five points. 

It was some sort of bizarre trap, and the strange, glowing lines were evidently the key. She tried to touch them, but the edge of the dome blocked her. She studied the lines; every time her otherwise ultrakeen eyes attempted to trace their pattern they seemed to blur and shift sickeningly, but she kept at it. The pentacle seemed to become a little easier to look at after she'd grasped its shape. The light, the patterns, they wormed their way into portions of her elven mind she'd never used before, and she began to _see_ things within it all. Lines of--juncture, Le'lorinel supposed... planes of interlocking forces. It was almost like some enormous _circuitry_ diagram. The more she looked into it, the more she began to comprehend its strange logic, and the more Le'lorinel saw of the structure of what held her. 

But it didn't do her any good; the arcane structure was set so it couldn't be taken down from the inside.

"You see?" Niata asked with a shrug. "Only my priests and I may take down the wards." She squinted, considering, and slowly, realization dawned upon her. "You are not a demon after all," she drawled, almost to the air. "But if not then, what are you?"

By this time, Le'lorinel had begun to get very annoyed with the entire scenario. She fairly yelled her reply. "I am a **drow**, human! Now LET ME OUT!"

"A drow," Niata echoed, choosing to ignore the last demand. "A _drow_? But that is a dark elf." Her eyes roved over the elf's exotic, dark-dyed clothing, her silver hair, lingered on Le'lorinel's crimson eyes and inky skin. "That explains it." Her voice lost some of its hardness. "Forgive me. I thought your kind were no more."

"I see," Le'lorinel snapped. "So, you dabbled into the Shadow Realm hoping to catch a demon, but got a dark elf instead. Will you release me now?"

Niata gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Step forward."

Le'lorinel cautiously poked a toe out of the tentagrammon and, heartened by the fact that she was not stopped by the invisible force, took a step. Then another, and another, until she stood outside her temporary prison.

"Forgive my previous welcome," Niata said, in a more casual tone of voice. These are troubled times. Just a few days ago, our most gifted seer predicted a great shadow would be cast over this world. We thought perhaps a demon could give us further information."

"No hard feelings," Le'lorinel replied, not meaning a word of it. "Where have you brought me, priestess?"

"Elf, tell me. Have you never heard of Aegyptus?"

"Aegyptus." Le'lorinel thought hard, running over names and terms in her mind's eye. "Egypt?" She glanced up, questioning. "That explains the heat, then." One corner of her mouth twitched in a sardonic smile. "That is all well and good, but I would rather you sent me home." 

"Alas, that is beyond our power," one of the priests sighed, spreading his hands out beseechingly. "Lady Niata drained herself bringing you here."

"Until our power is restored," a priestess little more than a child put in, "you will have no choice but to remain here. We are sorry."

"You must understand," Niata explained hastily, upon seeing the inner flame of anger flickering in the drow elf's eyes, "with a demon, we would have simply destroyed it after its usage was worn out. They are vile creatures, preying upon the emotions and life energy of other beings. But, they do see things that we cannot." Gesturing to Le'lorinel, the High Priestess began to walk from the room. "With an elf, such as you, things are considerably more complex. This will require much contemplation." 

She pushed open a door of dried, woven reeds, and stepped into a narrow corridor. "Rest assured we will make you as comfortable as we can during your stay." She pushed open a second door, and Le'lorinel had to throw up an arm to shield her eyes from the sudden glare. "You may even partake in our studies, if you so desire." Niata could not help but smile. "Certainly the presence of such a creature as a drow would make our neophyte priests and priestesses go about their studies with more fervor."

Seeing no alternative to the suggestion the High Priestess offered her, Le'lorinel nevertheless found it necessary to argue. "Suppose I simply walked out that door? The world is vast. You would never see your precious _experiment_ again." She allowed herself a wolfish grin.

The priest from earlier, who was walking on her left side, laughed. And where would you go?" He gestured to the scenery outside the woven door. Before the small group, there spread a massive waste- a veritable sea of sand that heat rose from in waves. The only stretch of green was one that bordered a great river, and even that was small in comparison to the desert that bordered it. "Beyond the Nile, there is only the Great Desert, which stretches endlessly in all directions. You would be dead within a mere three days' travel." He bowed apologetically. "And you live long, my lady drow, but against the wrath of Ra's wastes, you will not live forever."

"There is truth enough in your words," Le'lorinel agreed, peering at the landscape through slitted eyes. "Very well. I shall remain here, in your temple. But only until you are rested!" She held up a cautionary finger. "I do not intend to stay here overlong."

"Even so," the High Priestess replied. She paused suddenly, and she eyed Le'lorinel with a curious gaze. "If I may ask why is it that you squint like that?"

"I have spent eons trapped within the Shadow Realm," Le'lorinel replied. "The light of your sun hurts my eyes." She grimaced, and Niata clapped her shoulder with a hand, chuckling.

"You will grow used to it, in time. Until then." She gestured to a young priest, who drew from his robes a long strip of black silk. Instructing Le'lorinel to bow her head, he tied it firmly across her eyes. When she opened them again, the cloth cut down on the glare enough for her to find the light tolerable. Slits were cut into the silk for her to see through, and while it narrowed her field of vision, the drow was grateful for the device.

"And now," Niata instructed, gently steering her companion back into the temple, "we must find you some proper clothes"

****

Author's End Notes: So, there you have it, the first chapter of Starless Night. There's much more to come... oh yes, much more. *rubs hands and cackles* In the next chapter, Pharaoh Yami makes an appearance, things take a turn for the weird, Le'lorinel gets a sword, and the author gets a tic-tac. Sit tight!

- Literally, "What is going on? Where am I?"


End file.
